


Escaping Eden (Crowley's POV)

by HollyHeart



Series: Escaping Eden [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Acephobia, Agender Aziraphale (Good Omens), Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Asexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Asexual Crowley (Good Omens), Asexuality Spectrum, Conversion Therapy Camp, Depression, Fat Shaming, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexuality Crisis, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27650534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyHeart/pseuds/HollyHeart
Summary: Crowley is far from thrilled that he's going to some "pray the gay away" camp, but at least he finds a small silver lining: a growing friendship with an oddball named Aziraphale.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Escaping Eden [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021755
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This fic takes place in a conversion therapy camp if the idea of that is unsettling to you please be wary. Despite heavy topics I tried to keep my writing mild in tone.
> 
> If you feel I am missing any warnings in the tags do not hesitate to contact me!

“Fucking shit, ‘East of Eden: Behavioral Correction Summer Program’? Where the fuck does she get off sending me to a conversion camp?” I yelled at my plants as I did my daily tending ritual. “Ask a few questions about myself and suddenly I’m a fuck up? I can get kicked out of boarding schools all I want and she brushes it off like it’s nothing but god forbid I fucking kiss a boy or put on a skirt!” I vent as I inspect the leaves; carefully pruning the ones with spots. “And you!” I turn to my spider plant. “If you don’t start growing better I will toss you into the fireplace!”

My rage induced tirade to my house plants is halted by a text message notification.

**Lord Of The Flies:** Are we still doing that concert next week?

**Sunglassed Snake:** Sorry no can do

**Lord Of The Flies:** Are you fucking kidding me Crowley? It’s just like you to pull this shit!

**H.P. Fishcraft:** Why are you even surprised B.Z. ?

**Sunglassed Snake:** It’s not even my fault this time!

**Carnage Chameleon:** Oh really now?

**Sunglassed Snake:** Well not really anyway...

**Toad Arsonist:** You’re full of shit and you know it Crowley!

**Lord Of The Flies:** I want to hear this excuse.

**Sunglassed Snake:** I’m getting sent to one of those pray the gay away camps >:(

**Lord Of The Flies:** You’re shitting me...

**Sunglassed Snake:** I fucking wish!

**Lord Of The Flies:** The fuck happened?

**Sunglassed Snake:** Mom found one of my skirts in the wash…

**Carnage Chameleon:** Shit, that’s pretty rough

**Sunglassed Snake:** And she didn’t believe the whole “My girlfriend must have left it here” bit this time...

**Lord Of The Flies:** I thought we warned you about being careful!

**Sunglassed Snake:** Don’t give me that shit B.Z. you know for a fact if your grandmother caught the slightest whiff of what you do with Daggy you’d be sent to a fucking nunnery! 

**H.P. Fishcraft:** I think he might have a point there B.Z. 

**Sunglassed Snake:** _Poof!_ No more entomology degree, and no more dream wedding! Such a shame really I would have loved to see you in your suit again B.Z. 

**Lord Of The Flies:** Okay I get it! But still if you weren’t such a flash bastard you wouldn’t have been found out so easily!

**Toad Arsonist:** How long will you be at this “no homo camp” anyway?

**Sunglassed Snake:** All bloody summer…

**Lord Of The Flies:** Well there goes our ride to Ligur’s beach house... 

**Toad Arsonist:** I could drive us there!

**H.P. Fishcraft:** Fuck no you’re a worse driver than Crowley! 

**Sunglassed Snake:** Welp thanks for the support, I better start packing before  _ she _ gets home

“I need better friends,” I mutter to myself before turning my phone off. I look at my stuff and wonder what the hell I’m even supposed to be bringing other than clothes and toiletries. We aren’t supposed to bring games, phones or music players so there goes all the shit that matters! I find myself seething before just shoving a bunch of shit into a duffle bag. Just pack it all up and sleep till tomorrow I guess. 

-

The start of the day was an absolute shitshow. I was rudely woken up by my mother and barely had time to eat before we got into the car. So I settled for bottled coffee and an apple. 

“If you were worried about breakfast, Anthony, you would have gotten up earlier!” She berated as she got into the car. 

“You didn’t tell me when we were leaving!” I retorted angrily as I got in the backseat of the car. I hated the backseat of this car; it made me feel like a child. But I hated the idea of sitting beside my mother even more.

“Well aren’t you the one who’s into questioning everything? Why didn’t you ask?” She scolded. It’s just like her to always place the blame on me, no matter how obviously it was her fault. It’s not as if she’s the one who decided to have me or anything.

“Maybe it’s because you told me to stop doing that?” I seethed.

“Don’t sass me, young man!” She practically hissed at me. The rest of the 45 minute drive was bitter and silent as far as our conversation was concerned, but given the lack of music I’d be allowed at this hell camp I desperately tried to soak up every note of The Velvet Underground I could before we got there. 

Sadly my time in my musical haven was cut short when we approached a large campground with a sign labeled “Welcome, Warriors of God” at the entrance. Ugh, Jesus Christ, kill me now. My mother parked the car and directly took me to the front office so I could sign in for my three month sentence to hell on earth. 

There at the sign-in desk there was a receptionist with the most permanently unimpressed face I had ever seen; almost as if she wanted to be here less than I did. And of course my mother being my mother, she just had to request to speak to one of the counselors who’d be working with me directly! What a piece of work she is.

The receptionist lady then left and with a groan, I sat on a chair against the wall. Next thing I know she’s blathering on about what I can only assume is me, to some large bald man with a shit eating grin. 

“Is this him?” The bald man asks as he walks over to me.

“Yes, that would be my Anthony!” my mother trails behind the man. I respond with a grimace.

“Well I’m Mr. Sandalphon” he introduces himself to me. “Don’t worry ma'am, we’ll get your little rebel without a cause back on track!” The whole spiel makes me want to gag.

“Wonderful! Now I have to go to work.” She smiles oh-so-daintily at the Sandalphon guy. “Let’s hope this works, Anthony.” She looks at me and sighs without another word. My thoughts lie somewhere between “Good riddance. Get going, bitch” and “How the hell do you just leave your child in a place like this?” Either way, I’m undeniably stuck here for the rest of the summer.

“So, your mother says you’re having a bout of gender confusion.” Sandalphon gives me that same metal-studded grin that oozes insincerity “Don’t worry Anthony, we’ll make a man out of you!” I contemplate whether I should hold my tongue and stick with a silent bitter defiance, or if I should knock him down a peg? I ultimately decide that it’s only fair this asshole deserves to know what he’s dealing with. 

“You do know what that phrase means, do you?” I smirk. He responds with an unamused look. I was more than ready to cause chaos here. I wanted to get him and all the counselors here back for the damage they’d do here. To spite them for the shit they’d do to kids like me. They could try whatever kumbaya bullshit they wanted to try and “fix” me but it wouldn’t work, and they certainly weren’t going to get to try it without a fight.

“All right, let’s just get you in the dining area with the others!” He says, trying to gloss over the unpleasant interpretations of his “man” comment.

“Nah, I’m good for now,” I say matter-of-factly. I stayed seated till I could practically force him to drag me there himself. And drag me he did! Next thing I knew I was being pulled by the arm into a somewhat large dining hall.

“Why Mr. Sandalphon, be careful! You don’t want to get too close. You don’t want to inspire any impure thoughts now, would you?” I teased with a wink. I wanted to get him as angry as possible since I knew he wasn’t allowed to hurt me. 

“Why don’t you sit here where it’s nice and quiet, and focus on keeping yourself out of trouble? Sound good, Anthony?” With a wide smile unsettlingly plastered to his face, and a gesture to a cafeteria bench, he suggested I sit down beside a nervous looking blonde kid who was trying to read a book.

“Crowley!” I defiantly corrected as I was practically pushed into a seat

“All right,  _ Mr _ . Crowley '' He did that condescending pleasantry thing that authority figures so often did where they’re acting all polite but they know how hard they just psychically flipped you off. He then gave the other kid a smile and went back to whatever he was doing before.

“Well, that was a warm welcome,” I disgustedly spat the words out before turning to the blonde and hoping for a comment. He must have seen the bullshit that must have transpired there. I mean, I was clearly a dick too but there was something wrong about all that, right?

“Huh?” was all they said as they gave me a blank wide eyed stare. The stare was so wide that I could see just how shiny and bright his eyes were. I thanked whatever forces put me here that I was at least wearing my sunglasses, and that he wouldn’t realize that I got distracted by his gaze. 

“The being shoved in here and such,” I clarified, trying hard to continue the conversation and not make it obvious that I was caught off guard. 

“Yes, it all is rather off-putting” he said in a soft melancholy tone as he put away his book. “Crawley, was it?” he then asked with a kind little smile. 

“Crowley,” I just casually corrected. “Crawley” was a new one in terms of mishearing my name, but I was honestly just glad he tried to latch onto my correction rather than to Anthony.

“So sorry! Crowley; got it!” He tapped his temple and his smile got a little brighter.

“And you?” I shifted to face him, placing my elbow on the table leaning my head into my hand. I was simply fascinated by the kid’s mannerisms. 

“Oh, it’s Aziraphale.” His smile turned nervous, as if he was embarrassed about his name.

“Your parents are super churchy or something?” What the hell Crowley? Wow what a stupid fucking question, I’m sure most people here are here because their folks are “churchy”. And while we’re at it did you really just say “churchy”? Well, this guy thinks you're an idiot now, so that’s cool.

“Well…” he motioned towards a banner on the wall with the words “Welcome Back to God’s Path” written on it in gold paint. “It’s sort of why I’m here.” He laughed nervously. 

“Fair ‘nough.” I shrugged, trying to play it cool and pretend I didn’t just make an ass of myself. We were then interrupted by some guy who looked as if a Ken doll decided to spring to life and become a life coach. 

“Aziraphale! It’s great to see you, sunshine!” He said with a deep sense of familiarity. “Your parents told me you’d be joining us this summer.” I decided to just casually listen into the rest of the conversation; get a better grasp on this guy.

“Yes, well…” The discomfort this guy caused the blonde was palpable. I almost said something, but I decided to watch quietly, staying aloof behind my dark lenses. 

“Don’t worry, Sunshine, we’ll kick this thing! Who knows, maybe we’ll even shed some pounds in the process.” He creepily poked the kid’s stomach before walking away. I wasn’t even remotely ready to start figuring out what the hell was even going on with that body shaming crap. 

“You know that knob?” I gestured at the smiley Ken doll bastard.

“He’s my cousin.” Aziraphale smiled awkwardly. 

“He seems like a real piece of work…” Was what I ended up saying. What I wanted to say was  _ “I’m sorry you have the displeasure of knowing that prick and have the even worse luck of having to be related to him”. _ But I didn’t want to make  _ too  _ much of a scene for the clearly uncomfortable Aziraphale’s sake.

“That he certainly is.” His voice was almost a little cheeky there. It was good to know that this guy wasn’t  _ nothing _ but a ball of nerves. 

“Guess that explains why you were sent here then.” I slumped down on the table, placing my head on folded arms.

“Yes well… Wait, what do you mean by that?”

“If their preference is _that,_ ” I motioned to his cousin, “Then of course they sent you to a place to scrub you of your ‘you-ness’. That guy has the personality of a grocery store health magazine cover.” I think that almost got a laugh out of them.

“I’m not sure I’m following; my parents don’t want me to stop being me, they just want to make sure I stay in line with God’s ineffable plan!” He gave me the most wholesome, sincere look. I wanted to argue but a lump got caught in my throat. This kid was the innocent type, the type of kid that most parents would want; the same type that didn’t realize any of this conversion crap was bullshit! 

“Ineffable? The fu...” I shook my head, stopping myself from being quite as rude as I would be to pretty much anyone else who described this sort of anti-queer shit as “God’s plan”. Aziraphale didn’t deserve that; I could tell just by looking at him that he was probably sheltered to be some perfect little Christian family’s angel of a child. And unlike other kids like that he didn’t seem to be a holier than thou douchebag about it… At least not so far. “You know… Whatever, it’s fine, Angel Boy.” I let the nickname slip without thinking. 

The comment was quickly met by a faint shade of rose covering his cheeks. Of all the things I expected out of this camp venture, Angel becoming a larger part of my vocabulary wasn’t one of them.


	2. Chapter 2

“Okay, everyone’s here! I guess it’s time for introductions!” Gabriel said, signaling us to flock to him like a bunch of pigeons to bread crusts. He stood behind a podium, seemingly only to make himself out to be a more self-aggrandizing prick than he already had. At his side was the lady from the sign-in desk, that Sandalphon prick, and some lady I didn't know yet who looked like she had a huge stick up her ass.

“Of course he’s the head counselor,” I said, disgusted, as I slid down in my uncomfortable chair.

“I’m Gabriel and I’d just like to start by congratulating everyone on their first step on the right foot; with enough hard work and determination we will all be walking down God’s path before the end of the summer!” I sat there seething. I only half listened, but every word of this rubbish made me want to vomit. “I’d like to introduce you to my fellow counselors: Ms. Michaels, Ms. Uriel, and Mr. Sandalphon. Our job is to help you guys cope with impure temptations, and make sure you all exit camp a better person than when you started!” This was pathetically sad. Either they knew that this was just a string of positive sounding religious platitudes covering up how much they hated queers, or they genuinely believed they were doing God’s work here. I wasn’t sure which option was worse, really. 

I wasn’t having any of this shit. But Aziraphale, that innocent fool, was listening this shlock so intently you’d think he thought he was going to be fucking quizzed on it. Poor clueless angel, he not only thought this was all legit, but he actually wanted it to work. 

“We’ll start by passing along our rooming charts and name tags; just look for your names and then find your bunk-buddies!” I rolled my eyes as I waited to be passed the stupid sheet of paper. I didn’t even bother with the name tag.

I scoured the page for my name, eventually finding it under “Bunk 4” right next to “Aziraphale Z. Fell” without a single other name on the list. Well, for once today things seemed to be working out in my favor. A less crowded bunk with a person I wasn’t entirely unacquainted with? Please!

“There simply must be a mistake!” Aziraphale looked at me, completely panicked. I knew I kinda fucked up on my first impression, but fear seemed a bit of an over reaction.

“Sorry, seems like you’re stuck with me Angel” I sneered. 

“No, no, that part isn’t a problem! So sorry! Would you excuse me?” He sputtered out nervously and clearly apologetic before he ran off to his cousin. Okay, I overreacted, and probably made things worse again.  _ “Not everyone’s an asshole, Crowley,”  _ I tried to remind myself. Suddenly I felt a tap on my back. I turned around to see some grimy looking kid with white dyed hair, as well as two others: one tall and thin, and the other slightly muscular with long red hair.

“Are you Mort?” When he spoke his breath smelled oddly chemical.

“No. I’m Crowley.” I responded flatly. “I’m actually one of the two in Bunk 4, just waiting for my bunkmate to finish up with the big boss there” I motioned over to Gabriel. 

“Shame, we’re looking for our fourth so we can head to our cabin.” The thin one remarked, looking a bit tired of waiting.

“Sorry.” I shrugged. “Maybe check that kid in the black hoodie? He seems a bit lost.” I waved my hand in their general direction.

“Thanks.” The grimy kid headed off with the other two following behind. 

“I hope we’ll see you later, though.” The redhead turned back and winked, a hungry look in their eyes. I was somewhat amused but overall not interested. As great a story as it would be to get kicked out of a pray the gay away camp, I didn’t feel like doing so by hooking up with thirsty strangers.

Several other campers walked up to me, trying to see if I was one of their cabin mates. This soon became exhausting. Normally meeting new people wasn’t a big thing for me, but honestly I didn’t want to be bothered by big groups of strangers. All I wanted right now was for Aziraphale to be done with that douchebag so I could put my shit in our room. I was sure the room would suck, but it would be a new, quieter version of sucking.

Speak of the devil (or angel in this case), Aziraphale came back from his little chat with Gabriel looking a bit off.

“You okay there, Angel boy?” I tried not to sound overly concerned (it makes me seem desperate). 

“Oh everything is tickety-boo!” I did a double take as he picked up his luggage. The hell did that even mean? 

“Tickety-boo? You grow up in a Dickens novel or somethin’?” I grabbed my backpack.

“Actually, based on its historical usage, it is quite possible that Dickens used it in one of his novels!” His voice grew excited.

“You know I was joking, right?” I let out a laugh. 

_ “Oh! Yes! Of course,” _ He tugged at his clothes. I hoped I hadn’t been too harsh. “Shall we head to our room then?” I nodded and we headed off.

-

I wasn’t really sure what to say to Aziraphale while we were walking to our bunk. I just rambled about, bitching about how corporate and gloomy the whole place looked. I probably came off as a huge whiny asshole! Which I guess wasn’t a bad representation of me… No wonder my friends didn’t care much that I’d be shipped off for the summer. 

“So what do you think, Angel?” I asked a bit awkwardly. I needed to pull Aziraphale back into the conversation, or more like turn my flood of whinging into a conversation in the first place. He looked confused, like I had asked him something complex.

“Well, the walls certainly could have done with a bit of artwork. It would have added some much needed character and perhaps a bit of warmth.” I just kept quiet, nodding in agreement until I was sure he was done.

“Yeah, paintings, maybe a few plants. I mean it would still look like a bloody office building but at least it would look like a less miserable one.” Aziraphale just looked at me like he was humoring me.

When we finally got to our bunk, Aziraphale was the one to get the door. The room was absurdly dull, just as much as the rest of the bloody building. I wasn’t expecting a hotel suite or anything, but for God’s sake, I had seen closets both larger and more welcoming than this room. It more or less felt like one step up from a prison cell. There was a bed on each side of the room, and underneath each of them was a large drawer. There were two shuttered windows, barely letting in any sunlight (so at least I didn’t have to worry about burning my eyes in the morning). A bathroom, which was at least useful for not having to wander the halogen-lit halls at night. Next to the beds were small tables topped with bibles, because of course there were. And the fucking crown jewel of what-the-fuckery, a bloody security camera to watch us while we slept! I knew that they didn’t want the campers fucking each other, but how does that make spying on underaged kids sleeping okay?

“Well this bloody bites!” I griped as I tossed my stuff against the wall, sprawling myself out on the bed further from the window. I realized after I’d done this that I should have asked if Aziraphale had a preference on where he wanted to, but at that point he was already unpacking his things. It was probably for the best; sunlight and I aren’t exactly the best mix.

“It isn’t that bad.” He sounded overly sweet as he unfolded and refolded his clothes to be put away.

“How could this possibly be worse?” I genuinely wondered how he was going to try and convince me otherwise.

“Well...The roof could be leaking, or perhaps we could have rude roommates!” 

“Ah yes, because I’m such a prize roommate!” I laughed, rather unamused at him having a go at me.

“I don’t know, you might be a bit crude or boisterous towards the counselors, but you seem rather pleasant to be around to me.” I stared at him from behind as he arranged his books on the nightstand. I couldn’t believe the lack of sarcasm in his voice when he said that. Which meant either A: he was fucking clueless on how to sound properly sarcastic, or B: he genuinely meant it. And honestly I couldn’t wrap my head very well around either option, coming from someone as seemingly innocent as Aziraphale.

“‘Kay” I muttered, knowing that if he thought I was at all decent, his mind would change before the summer was over.

  
  


-

After we put our stuff into our cell for the summer we made our way to “Activity Room C” for some gender role enforcing BS. Needless to say, I wasn’t excited.

“This is going to be a load of horse shit.” I groaned

“We don’t know that!” Aziraphale contested, sounding far too hopeful as he opened the door for me. 

When I entered the room it looked like I was back in primary school. The desks pushed together with everyone facing each other, and Gabriel and Sandalphon at the front of the room playing teacher. I walked over to our assigned desks and slumped into my seat, Aziraphale following behind.

“Okay boys, let’s talk about hobbies! What do you like to do? If we can find the most masculine things you like to do, and re-enforce them we might be able to use that as momentum to become better men!” Gabriel droned on again with his prepared monologues of “heterosexual positive” word salad.

“What a crock of shit…” I muttered. I imagined how someone like Hastur would react to being told he’s got a thing for cocks because his hobbies weren’t masculine enough. He’d probably set this entire building on fire with Gabriel in it.

“So let’s build some comradery between us and figure out some hobbies worth encouraging!” He finally finished, graciously setting my ears free from his cage of worthless noise. 

“All right, tell me about your hobbies, Angel,” I asked Aziraphale half-heartedly. 

“Let’s see...I’m rather partial to the theater, Shakespeare especially. I have an immense love of reading, both fiction and nonfiction. I have an adoration for historical fashion...” Aziraphale spoke so proper about everything. The whole situation felt like an interview, or stale small talk on a first date. “And I’m also a bit of a magic enthusiast!” 

“Magic? Know any tricks?” My interest piqued. 

“Yes, certainly! Just hold on.” Aziraphale’s face oozed excitement as he fumbled around in his pockets. He then positioned his hands in such an obvious way, that it seemed to foreshadow the impending failure of this trick. “What’s that behind your ear?” He smiled brightly. That was the moment that I paid witness to the world’s worst magic trick. Aziraphale’s hand brushed up against my ear and he proceeded to “produce” a quarter “from thin air”. 

“I know it was in your palm…” I said snidely, trying to ignore how gentle the bottom of his palm was against my earlobe. 

“No it wasn’t! It was in your ear...” he protested. I gave him a look of disbelief, pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. “Well it was close to it anyway,” he insisted, this time with less conviction.

“That was impressively bad; like I am literally impressed by how bad that was.” I couldn’t help but criticize that glorious display of failure. Especially when Aziraphale was just so intent on persuading me to think otherwise.

“You’re no fun,” he pouted playfully, clearly trying not to smile. I said nothing, but mentally I took it back. Well, not all of it; not about Aziraphale’s coin trick being utterly horrendous, but the little trick he pulled just now with that pouty face he made?  _ That  _ was something. That trick made something flutter in the back of my brain. 

“I’m plenty fun, you’ve just got no sense of misdirection!” I teased.

“Fine, perhaps I’m a bit rusty. What are your hobbies?” Aziraphale smiled, seemingly eager to move past his failed attempt at magic. I was just happy for the distraction from weird fluttery bits of feelings for a practical stranger. 

“Music, clubbing, botany…” I paused, realizing it might not be best to get into all the chaotic things I enjoyed. Not right now, at least. “That’s most of it,” I said, not wanting to drone on any longer than I had to. 

“You’re a scientist? That’s incredible!” His face lit up. 

“Nah, more of a gardener honestly; botany just sounds better.” I explained, realizing just how dorky that was saying it out loud. 

“Well that certainly has its own merits; I for one am not the most flora inclined. That is, unless you count the historical language of flower arrangements.” 

“You sure know a lot about historical nonsense.” Plays? Historical fashion? Language of flower arrangements? The more I found out about Aziraphale, the more stereotypically gayer he seemed. Like he was gayer than guys I’ve snogged at gay clubs levels of gay! It wasn’t as if this was a problem; it was just so odd that a person could be so close to some kind of character in a mushy romance period piece movie, the kind that old ladies were always losing their shit about. 

“One can never be too educated about the world we live in!” He sounded a bit self impressed with his seemingly endless amount of useless facts, almost the same way kids get excited about their hobbies. I hadn’t seen that from someone my age in a while. It was somewhat endearing. 

“I guess not?” I suppressed a smirk.

“Do you have a favorite flower?” he asked. I rested my fingers on my chin, thinking possibly a bit too deeply about my answer.

“Hyacinths,” I said, trying to sound casual despite thinking about it for far too long.

“Oh my, hyacinths are absolutely lovely; it’s so fascinating how each color represents a different concept!” While I couldn’t relate too much to any of his interests, it was at least a bit endearing for someone to be so passionate about anything. I couldn’t help but smile a little. 

“So boys, what have you come up with?” Gabriel asked with a stupid grin plastered to his face, seemingly just to ruin our conversation. Aziraphale went quiet, as if Gabriel’s mere presence sucked all the life out of him.

“Well, Aziraphale here is real into history,” I interject, trying to direct the focus to myself. “Big war buff, this one.” Aziraphale just nodded along.

“And Crowley is a science enthusiast, has an extensive scientific knowledge of plants and acoustics!” Aziraphale added in. I was pleasantly surprised; I didn’t think he had it in him to fudge the truth, even a millimeter. 

“That’s a great start guys, good job!” He gave us a thumbs up before wandering off.

“Thank you so much for covering for me!” Aziraphale exhaled as if he couldn’t even breathe around Gabriel.

“It’s not a big deal; you covered for me as well, you know.” I laid my head in my hand.

“I suppose so,” Aziraphale still looked flustered about the whole ordeal.

“So, what were you saying about hyacinths?” I tried to steer the conversation back to its prior (at least mostly pleasant) state.

“Oh yes, well, each one has its own unique meaning. Do you have a favorite variant?” he seemed to relax a bit.

“Red or purple, probably.” That took much less thought.

“So, red hyacinths mean playfulness, while purple ones mean sorrow or a plea for forgiveness.” I just stared for a moment. I wondered if Aziraphale was serious or just doing a cold reading of my personality.

“You really think flowers have meaning?” I looked at him skeptically. 

“As much as anything really. It’s one of the marvelous things about humans, the beauty we see in things and the meanings we ascribe to them.” 

  
  


-

After that pointless exercise of gay panic, it was thankfully time for lunch. This meant there was only one more pointless group activity before I could hopefully just relax and sleep through till tomorrow.

I walked into the lunch line behind Aziraphale and waited to pick out my lunch. The food options were whatever, just standard lunch fare; sandwiches, veggie sticks, nothings that stood out to me. I took whatever seemed the most interesting. Luckily I wasn’t too hungry.

I grabbed my tray and looked around the cafeteria, trying to spot where my bunkmate had settled. I wondered if I seemed like a freak following him around like a lost puppy. There were certainly a number of empty seats, nothing stopping me from mingling, and it wasn’t as if I  _ had _ to sit with Aziraphale; there wasn’t a rule or anything. And what if he needed some space? He was probably sick of me, having spent all our time together since we got here.

He must have caught me staring because he waved at me, or at least in my direction. Was he just being friendly? Was he signaling me to join him? I decided to stop worrying about it and just sit with him anyway. He could always just tell me to fuck off if he didn’t want me there.

“The hell is that?” I asked as I put down my tray. I pointed to the fruit studded cup of muck sitting on Aziraphale’s tray that was clearly trying to pass as real food.

“Some type of health food called ‘chia pudding’.” Aziraphale was clearly unamused by the poor excuse for a pudding. Honestly I couldn’t even try to hide my disgust for the substance either; it just looked that unappetizing. 

“It looks like someone splooged into a cup of fruit…” I blurted out without thinking. This got a wince out of Aziraphale. I then realized that that kind of response might not have been as common to someone like him as it was to my mates from school. 

“It doesn’t smell very good either,” he said, sounding rather dreary. I then noticed him looking at my lunch. Specifically, he was looking at the miniscule cupcake on the corner of my tray.

“You can have it if you want,” I said without much thought. He deserved something nice after being given a lunch that looked less edible than my houseplants.

“What?” He looked up from the tray and stared at me, looking almost as if he thought I was going to start yelling at him.

“My cake, I see you staring at it,” I offer again. His eyes go wide, and he starts to blush again. From the amount of blushing he did, you’d think he’d never interacted with another person in his life. It was as if every possible gesture made him nervous. 

“Oh, I couldn’t.” His tone was uncertain. I was willing to bet that with a bit more prodding I could get him to reverse his declination.

“I’m not much for sweets, it would probably get wasted otherwise.” I held it out to him. “Here, take it!” I tried to sound a little more insistent.

“Gabriel wouldn’t much like that.” I rolled my eyes at that ludicrous response. As if anyone should take his feelings into consideration, especially not a kid who was given a bottle of juiced veggies for lunch.

“Fuck ‘im, why does he have such a restrictive diet for you in particular anyway?” I rolled my eyes.

“Your body is a temple!” He said, doing an impression of Gabriel, which caused me to chuckle a little bit. “And he thinks I’m taking care of mine improperly.” I see the good humor leave his gaze as he looks down, inspecting his stomach. 

“Great, if your body’s a temple then here’s an offering!” I picked up the cake and placed it on his tray.

“You are far too kind!” he gushed at me, as he picked up the sweet. It was seemingly my turn to blush. He just smiled at it, so gratefully; I didn’t know how to react. The cake that looked so pathetic on my tray, looked so delicate in Aziraphale’s soft hands. Even the way he peeled off the stupid paper lining so daintily just added to his angelic visage. I was certain that no human should seem so pure doing mundane things.

“Trust me I’m not, I’m just not a cake person ‘s all,” I insisted. I didn’t want him to think I was trying too hard to please him, and I certainly didn’t want him to think I was a good person. It felt unfair to trick an actual good person that way. 

“Well, thank you.” I had never seen an amount of joy on anyone’s face even close to the one I saw when Aziraphale bit into that measly little cupcake. His eyes closed in utter bliss, I could see a smile as he chewed, I think I even heard him humming. I don’t think I’ve ever made anyone that happy in my life. Hell, if all it took to make him feel at all better was a cupcake I’d give him every sweet treat I could get my hands on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the huge break in between chapters but hopefully I'll post a little more regularly in the upcoming months.
> 
> Thank you for reading. ^_^


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